Still Good
by gostlcards
Summary: Months after the storm, after Emma and Snow have survived each other, and they are living together as a family, Emma reaches her own realization. Inspired by a quote from "Lilo & Stitch", includes spoilers/allusions to spoilers from Season 2. It's Christmas-y as well, so you've been forewarned ;


Disclaimer: not mine

AN: so yes, I know. I have other stories, but this hit me earlier this morning and I couldn't shake it. And yes, i'm aware Christmas isn't for 3 more months lol. But let me clarify; "Ohana" means a lot to me. When I was 20, 7 years ago (I'm old lol), i spent my summer, fall and holidays working at Disney World as a college program kid in the parks. My friends, became my surrogate family and got me through my very tough first time of Thanksgiving without my immediate family. With the holiday season approaching faster than I would like (it does that faster as you get older, to be forewarned), I am reminded of them and how much that time meant to me. This story was inspired by a simple gif set on Tumblr I saw with the quote the title of this was drawn from. So yeah, I know...we still got a bit before Christmas. But with certain spoilers, WHICH BTW ARE CONTAINED IN THIS STORY, I just kinda wanted to imagine the good stuff. Hopefully we'll get a Christmasy ep this year.

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She's a little bit like Stitch, she decides one wintry afternoon. It has seemed like so long to her, and yet no time at all since the curse had broken and they had moved into the home which had once belonged to David Nolan and his wife. Snow had not been crazy about it at first, knowing she was living in the place her beloved had shared a life with another woman in, but it was bigger and there were more rooms for Emma and Henry to stay comfortably with them and so here they were.

She watches her mother-the idea still funny to her mind-twitter around the kitchen with a soiled apron and floured hands, her son trailing closely behind. She, having inherited (_inherited!_) her father's lack of cooking skills, stays safely tucked away from the action near the hearth and sips at her hot cocoa as the Charlie Brown Christmas Special streams from the speakers. She has a wool knit blanket gifted to her by Granny for her 29th birthday, saying it was to match the other one she had made her, and Emma feels strangely sad. She remembers Christmas at friends homes, the sad little foster girl with no where else to go and the families of friends who sometimes took her in so she could have a warm meal, and happy tidings.

It has been a rough six months, months that have seemingly passed in a blur. Henry almost dying, everyone remembering...meeting her parents for the first time, when they knew who she was, the anger and bitter resentment she had thrown in their faces when she believed them to have willingly sent a mere boy through with her instead of one of them, choosing to stay with each other instead of being with her. That had been a sorely reached understanding, whilst transported across the dimensions into another realm for months with her mother. With nothing else to do to pass the nights as they searched for a way back to Storybrooke, she had lashed out easily enough, cutting Snow down with vicious words. When it had become evident that Snow had absolutely no idea what she spoke of, she realized that whoever Marco was...he had decided that fate alone without involving the King and Queen. As the realization had settled on Snow's face, Emma had not felt the triumphant vindication of being right and only evermore a feeling of being a disappointment, shame flickering inside of her at the thought that she had ever believed that warm-hearted Snow would ever choose that for her.

"To grow up motherless..." Snow had whispered, shaking her head as she stared off at nothing. "That's why this whole thing started. Because I didn't want her to lose her mother. Emma, I would have never...I _loved_ you. I do, love you. I love Charming as well, but...I mean, he never would've allowed to have sent you alone, if we'd have known...he didn't even want to then! He almost _died_..."

Emma had shaken her off and they'd hardly spoken of it again until well after they were rescued, climbing from a portal as her father pulled them both through in the nick of time, tripping over her own two feet and falling into James who had held her so tightly that she had had to request that he release his grip on her, despite the fact she was well aware of her own hands twisting his button down in her fists.

That had been almost two months ago now, just around her birthday and Halloween and the fall. Now she sits alone watching them, the remnants of a fever fading in the night as Henry chatters excitedly to Snow about icing the sugar cookies, and she continues to trim the dough for the pies. Emma snuggles deeper into her woolen blanket that smells just like her baby blanket did when she was younger, like Granny, and baking and something like magic; now she knows it just smells like home.

The door swings open quite suddenly, James emerging through it with a red nose and ears, but with bright eyes and a smile. There is no mistake in the way Snow's entire face lights up as she wipes her hands and accepts his arms as they snake around her waist when he makes his way to her first and foremost, pressing his cold face to her own. She lets out a soft cry.

"Charming, you're freezing!"

"Hmm. Well, maybe I just need you to warm me up."

Emma doesn't miss the red that floods her mothers cheeks as she casts a glance her way, but Emma feels a strange mixture of mortification, amusement and absolute bliss. Like so many childhood holidays, this is a situation she could never have imagined finding herself in.

James winks at his daughter all the same as he ruffles his grandsons hair, stealing a newly iced cookie from the tray and taking it in his teeth as Henry cries foul. He playfully pokes him in the side and begins to remove his scarf and shrug off his jacket as he nears the living room where Emma sits, hooking it to the coat rack before sitting down on the arm of the chair adjacent to the couch, a hint of concern now shading his face. Tentatively, still knowing they're not quite where he'd like them to be, he places a hand to her head. He has just returned home from a shift at the station, you see, having pulled double duty in the wake of Emma's sickness, so she gives him this brief consolation. He frowns but a little, then swings himself about a foot away from her on the same couch. He's emboldened by the fact that she didn't quite pull away, but she still looks at him warily out of the corner of her eye. She curls her knees closer to her chest, burrowing more against into the back of the couch. He breaks his cookie in half and offers it to her.

"It feels like the fevers broken a bit."

She takes it with a nod, the wafting scent of the food having been inspiring her appetite for some time now. James smiles as she bites into and she has to hold back a smirk as she ducks her head, knowing Snow may not be as generous as he. She knows then that he would've spoiled her rotten as a girl, that she would've wanted for nothing. It doesn't hurt as much as she expects, the realization of what she has missed; just knowing the sentiment is there is enough.

She looks up toward the kitchen as she chews on the treat, Snow's hands guiding Henry's as she teaches him how to lattice a pie. Her mother's eye catches her own and she smiles warmly before ducking her gaze once more to concentrate on the task at hand. Emma turns to her father, who is munching on his cookie as he looks very concentrated at the television.

"So...this is on every year?"

Emma regards him in mock horror,the strains of the Peanuts gang flowing over them. "Of course it is, it's one of the best ones!"

He raises an eyebrow. "There are others?"

She rolls her eyes. "A Muppet Christmas Carol is on next. You will never need to watch another Christmas special after that. It is amazing."

He doesn't know what Muppet's are and he frowns all the same, watching as the animated figures strive to throw decorations on a tree that, in his opinion, is probably more suited for a wood chipper. When he states this, Emma viscerally reacts, shaking her head as she moves close to him and scoops up a TV guide at his side, flipping through the pages. When she settles next to him close, he doesn't even move, knowing she doesn't even realize her proximity.

She leans against him as she points to the screen, her legs curling up against her thighs as she pulls the blanket tightly to her, cuddling next to him. She explains how Charlie Brown has felt for the little tree the whole time, and how now, after a whole show of his friends making fun of it, pull together at the end to make it look nice, because they know it will make Charlie feel better. He wonders if she even notices him smiling at her in wonder. She flushes under his gaze, and shrugs, averting her eyes, but not really pulling away from him.

He thinks back to last year with Kathryn, as David Nolan. They had had a tree, a real one like the one they have yet to buy this year, but there had not been much to go with it. They had exchanged a few gifts, with Kathryn pouring over about how happy she was to have him back that Christmas, and him remaining quiet at how uncomfortable he was not feeling it in his heart. They didn't have Christmas in the enchanted forest; they had a winter solstice, a celebration that didn't involve shows or trees, but gifts and feasts all the same. But he has heard of these shows and he knows of the normal traditions of this world. His heart aches to wonder how many Emma had endured alone.

Without thinking, he lifts his arm to rest on the back of the couch behind her as then cartoon ends and a seemingly live action show begins. She tenses a bit at the gesture, but eventually settles further against his side, focusing on the tv. She loves the feel of his laughter as Gonzo and Rizzo exchange jabs with one another, how he mutters to her that this is _much _better than that other one they were watching. She smiles up at him though he is immersed in the show, then slides her glance to the kitchen. Henry and Snow look to be watching partially as well, one eye on the two of them and one on the baked goods now in the oven, Snow mindlessly enjoying one of the cookies Henry had made. He grins at his mother, who rolls her eyes in response, but again doesn't move from her spot on the couch.

James' hand slaps her playfully on the arm. "Emma, did you hear that part? Emma?"

"I've seen this approximately a million times. I could perform it for you, James."

He shakes his head, muttering something about a spoilsport, then returns his attentions to the show. She breathes in deeply to prepare for a sigh and finds herself oddly comforted by the mixture of cologne and soap that seems to permeate his flannel shirt. As she snuggles up closer, she looks back at the kitchen one last time.

Snow is watching them, but turns her attention to Henry once she sees she is caught. She opens the oven, clapping her hands as she instructs him to reach in carefully with oven mitts and pull out the pie, baked to almost perfection, the edges browned just enough to be done and helps him slide it onto the stove. Emma relaxes back, fighting back a warm feeling in her chest she is not completely familiar with at all.

_This is my family,_ she thinks to herself, the sounds of Henry triumphant and Snow's laughter drawing a smile to her face. She thinks of the past months, and of the summer, and of the tears, and the anger, and the fighting-not just with each other, but with Regina and with Gold and the people in the town, of everything they had to deal with alongside getting to know each other all over again, and she thinks about just how lucky she really is even with all of it. _I found it all on my own. It's little, and broken, but still good._

_Yeah._ She sighs once more, letting her body relax as James' arm falls to her side and she pulls the blanket to half cover them both. She doesn't miss the way his mouth half smiles.

_ It's still good._

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_Let me state, for the record; i have always had more guy friends in my life, and so the idea of cuddling up with them is out of friendship and nothing else, so please approach my scene in this with that in mind. Even in "Girl's Night Out", in which James is more protective...I see him and Emma having more of an older brother, best friend relationship than anything, and that's what i'm trying to convey toward the end of this, rather than improbably Daddy/Daughter stuff (as much as i'd like that to happen, i just think Emma's a bit too old for that bond to fully form :( i know, it bums me out too!)_


End file.
